It would have been easier to know just where Rajir was heading. The following schtick was tiresome, especially without a car. While teleportation spells didn't take up that much magical energies, using them over and over did leave you a little winded.

So when she consulted the map app on her phone, Zatanna felt like she should have known where the kidnappers were heading. There were other schools than Collins Middle School, and these guys had proven that age wasn't a restriction for them.

Of course, there was more than one school, so in the end it was probably best that she followed the white van to its destination instead of guessing. In this case, Witchcraft Heights Elementary School was their target. No, that wasn't a made up name. Yes, it was way too on the nose in a town like this. No, they didn't teach witchcraft there. This wasn't Hogwarts, people.

Though she wasn't going to lie, her inner child was a little disappointed by that.

Just like with Collins Middle School, Witchcraft Elementary was surrounded by a residential neighborhood. Houses with green lawns and halloween decorations didn't offer much hiding for the white panel van, but Rajir found an empty lot to park next to. Well, perhaps empty wasn't correct. There was a dirt field with a towering fence on one in, clearly the neighborhood baseball field.

The engine was still on, so it was likely this wasn't the place Rajir and Johnathan would capture their next victims. That was alright as Zatanna needed a few minutes to get over her multiple teleportations to get here. Taking cover behind the corner of a house, she occasionally peaked around it to make certain nothing had changed with the van.

She could only imagine what any passerbyers would think of her doing this. It wasn't like she could hide on a roof since any jogger or dog walker would see her up there and definitely know that something was weird.

…except she knew an invisibility spell. Why the hell hadn't she thought of that already?

"Emoceb elbisivni," she muttered under her breath, the feeling of her magic warming her body for an instant and then faded away. That should take care of everything for now.

A couple minutes later and the backdoors of the van opened up. Rajir and Johnathan climbed out, carrying what looked like surveyor equipment. You know, that tripod thing with the camera on it? Yeah, that thing. The two of them carried it onto the empty lot and set it up, seemingly acting as if they were doing a surveyor's job.

That…was admittingly smart. With the recent kidnapping/murder, most people would be on high alert for strange behavior, and an unknown van just sitting in a neighborhood it had no business being in would definitely set off someone's internal alarm. But who would think twice about a couple of surveyors?

Well, she naturally would. It also didn't hurt that the van had the logo for an antique store on it, so that just didn't fit the scenario.

Pulling out her phone, Zatanna checked her map app again. Yeah, they were perhaps a couple blocks away from the school, and the time…the school would be letting its students out within the hour. Rajir and Johnathan could stay here the entire time, pretending like they knew what they were doing until some kids walked by.

Hmm, how about she made certain that never happened?

Pocketing her phone, Zatanna left her cover—the one rendered obsolete by her invisibility spell—and walked towards the van, crossing the relatively empty street. Reaching the vehicle, she stopped when she saw the side mirror and noticed her reflection was missing in it. Gesturing with her hand for the spell to end, her reflection suddenly appeared in the mirror.

Then she paused to fix her hair a little. Hey, just because she was about to interrupt a kidnapping didn't mean she couldn't do it looking presentable.

Satisfied, the dark-haired woman then walked around the van and onto the empty lot. Johnathan seemed hard at work setting up the surveyor's equipment while Rajir just supervised, his arms crossed over his chest. So that was their working relationship, eh? She had to admit that she wasn't too surprised.

"Yoohoo!" she called out then.

Both men whipped their heads around. Rajir had a surprised look on his face, eyes wide and mouth slightly opened. As for Johnathan, his surprised look quickly morphed into one of pure rage. It probably would have been more intimidating if it weren't for the redness swelling his nose, and the traces of a bruise forming beneath both eyes.

Heh, she kinda enjoyed her handiwork there.

"Miss," Rajir was quick to recover, dropping his arms to his sides as he approached her. "I was not expecting to see you here."

"I was in the neighborhood," Zatanna flippantly replied. "I saw your van and I thought I'd come say hi."

"I…see. I must admit, I wasn't expecting to see you…here."

The way Rajir spoke, it was as if he were putting pieces of a puzzle together. That was fine, let him. With a snap of her fingers, she could literally freeze him in place before he got any bad ideas. "Same," she responded. "Mind telling me why you're out in this neighborhood—" she paused to look right at Johnathan and the survey equipment, "—with whatever that is?"

"I'm sorry, I cannot speak to that," Rajir replied. "It is simply not any of your business. I suggest that you leave."

Zatanna gave the bald man her undivided attention. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't you think it's odd that a man that runs an antique store is in a neighborhood full of houses? There's been weird things happening in this town, not the least being a whole bunch of kids getting murdered. I suggest you give me some legit reason for being here before I call the cops and you have to answer to them."

Rajir's face went blank. He clearly understood her message, not that she was hiding it. However, the mask of the kindly antique store owner that he had been wearing was no longer there. In a second, it was just gone.

Suddenly, Zatanna could feel there was something dangerous about this guy.

And if there was any room for doubt, that was instantly removed when he said, "I'm sorry, but I believe I cannot allow you to leave this place."

Club Night looked quite different during the day. That probably had more to do with the neon lights either being off, or the daylight making them glow duller. Either way, the swanky look it had at nighttime was definitely not here. It looked just like a random building in a not-so-good neighborhood.

At least the velvet rope was still up.

A couple of the bouncers were at the front door, chatting with each other about musclehead things. They only stopped talking when Constantine and Corrigan walked right up to them. "We ain't open yet," one of them grunted at the pair.

"Got ourselves an appointment with Brother Night," the blond man immediately responded. He had a lit cigarette between two fingers, a small trail of smoke wafting up from it. He had only taken a couple drags off of it, so it was still on the longer side.

"Boss ain't seeing anyone," the same bouncer retorted. "Screw off."

Constantine stared at the buff man before he brought his cigarette up, taking a drag. "Now that I just can't do," he eventually responded, a cloud of smoke pouring out of his mouth.

Then he flicked the cigarette at the man. It hit him right on the chest. Now, normally the cancer stick would just bounce off and fall harmlessly to the ground. This time, however, flames erupted on the man's shirt right where the coal had touched. A hole formed in the shirt and spread wide in all directions as the fire at it.

The bouncer shrieked and rushed away from the door, his friend running after him. The bouncer ripped his shirt off and threw it to the ground, slapping his chest with his hands to beat at any possible flame still on him, even though there was none. His friend just stomped on the smoldering shirt to put it out.

"Was that necessary?" Corrigan questioned.

"It got us through the front door," Constantine shrugged before stepping towards the door and opening it.

The inside of the club didn't look much better than the outside. Truly, nighttime did wonders for places like this. The main room was devoid of all life, save for the workers that were getting things ready for the night's entertainment. None of them paid the two men any attention.

This allowed them to walk right into the VIP section, where Brother Night was sitting in his cushioned booth. There were papers scattered across the table in front of them, and the god-awful looking man was clearly focused on them. That was the main reason why he didn't immediately greet them until they were standing right in front of the table.

"Constantine," Brother Night spoke as he looked up. Apparently he wasn't as distracted as he looked. He actually had a pair of reading glasses on, which he took off, that chilly smile of his on his face. His red eyes flickered over to Corrigan, and his friendliness dampened. "And a new friend."

"Fellow bloke," Constantine corrected him. "Got a situation that the both of us feel like you can give a little help with."

"Help, is it?" Brother Night set his glasses down on the table and leaned back into his seat. "I'm all ears, John."

"It's safe to assume you know about them kids getting killed in Salem, yeah?"

"I believe I've heard something about it. Who hasn't?"

"Care to tell us what you know about it?"

Brother Night shrugged his shoulders. "I'm afraid I don't know much. I understand if you find that hard to believe—"

"Which I do," the blond man interjected.

"—but I can only speak to what I know, which is hardly anything. Only what the newspapers have reported," he continued, not the least bit put off by the interruption.

"With all of your connections? Surely you've heard more than the locals," Constantine tutted.

"Sadly, no. Perhaps if you tell me more about it, I can be of some service."

That was when Corrigan decided to join the conversation. "How familiar are you with Mt Diablo?"

Brother Night actually paused. His eyes had looked at the redhead just because his words had drawn his attention, but the moment Mt Diablo was mentioned, he froze. "Mt Diablo," he murmured. "Now that's a place I haven't heard of in so long."

"It was fifty years ago," Constantine pointed out. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you did spend some time in San Francisco, yeah?"

"Of course I did. San Francisco is a hotbed for magical energies. Any proficient Homo magi has spent time there."

"And you were brought in for questioning for the massacre that happened then, were you not?" Corrigan asked.

Again, Brother Night stared at the redhead. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure," he said after several moments. "And you are?"

"A man intrigued by cold cases," Corrigan responded. "Especially when an entire police department literally stops moving. I'm quite interested in how that was pulled off, Mr. Peck."

Brother Night remained silent, but this time it wasn't because he had been caught off guard. No, there was a look in his eyes, one that said that he realized where this was going, and that he was coming to the conclusion that Corrigan wasn't just some rando. "You're well-informed, Sir," the club owner relented. "No one has called me that since…well, it has certainly been a long time."

"Allow me to be blunt," Corrigan said then. "I know about what transpired on Mt. Diablo; I know about your involvement in it. Just looking at you tells me you received what you wanted from committing such an act. Now a similar situation is happening with you in close proximity. That isn't a coincidence."

Well, if the private eye was going to lay all of their cards on the table, Constantine had no problem with dropping the pretense of civility. He did feel like they could have gotten more out of the creepy bloke if they played a little longer, but what was done was done.

"I can assure you that I have had no involvement in Salem," Brother Night countered. "That is a little too on-the-nose, even for someone like myself."

"What demon did you speak with?" Corrigan pressed. His face had hardened to express his disapproval of such actions. In fact, there was a strange tone in his voice, as if there was something else speaking with the man.

It was telling that Brother Night didn't protest the question. He just dropped his gaze and stared into space for a brief moment. Then his eyes flickered back up to Corrigan, one of his hands raising up. "The one that taught me this," he said.

And suddenly, Constantine couldn't move.

Rajir didn't make the first move. He just stared impassively at her.

Zatanna was on high alert. She just knew this man was dangerous. His body language screamed it. Sad to say, she was able to recognize this due to…well, she just happened to know what dangerous people looked like. Let's just leave it at that.

Yet, the sound of scrambling feet came from behind her.

The magician glanced over her shoulder in time to see Johnathan charging at her. He must have moved behind her while she had been talking with Rajir. The teenager had his arms out wide, looking to tackle her. So she did the one thing he wouldn't expect and jumped backwards into his waiting arms. She leaned into his body as he ran into her, and she began stumbling forward.

However, because of this move, Johnathan mistimed his tackle, his arms swinging to wrap around her just a second too late. The reason for it being too late was because Zatanna had her head bowed down, and the moment she felt the boy run into her back, she whipped her head back, the back of her skull smashing right into his face.

Boy, his nose was going to be sore when she was done breaking it.

"Gyah!" she heard Johnathan cry out, his momentum stopping immediately. He was pulling his arms back in to clutch at his face, but the dark-haired woman wouldn't let him. Planting her feet on the ground, she leaned back into the boy, all the while reaching up with both hands and grabbing onto one of his retreating arms. She pulled the appendage forward and over her shoulder, ensuring she had leverage on it.

Then she leaned forward, pulling hard on the arm. This caused Johnathan to lunge forward, his feet leaving the ground as she pulled him over her. Johnathan ended up flipping over her, landing hard on his back, his arm still held in the woman's hands.

Ms. Hogie's self-defense lessons struck again.

Zatanna looked down at the stunned teen, who stared wide-eyed up at the sky. He began coughing, no doubt having the air in his lungs forced out from his landing. Satisfied with that result, Zatanna tossed his arm to a side and stepped back. He was going to be one sore kid when this was all over.

She sensed movement then, which caused Zatanna to look up. Rajir had made a move towards her, and she wasn't going to let him make another. Raising a hand up, she directed her magical energies through her hand and fingers, the power flowing through the air invisibly until it surrounded the bald man. "Og morf ereht ot ereht," she chanted before moving her extended hand to one side.

Rajir stopped for only a split second before his body was thrown in the same direction as the dark-haired woman's hand moved. This caused him to slam into the side of his van, the man dropping to the ground in a heap.

That was when Johnathan flipped himself over and scrambled onto his hands and feet. There was a snarl on his face, and he charged at her again, looking like a raging animal. It didn't help that his nose seemed to be twice its normal size by now, not to mention some blood leaking out of one nostril and dripping down over his curled lips.

However, if this kid thought looking scary was enough to shock her, well, he had another thing coming. With the same extended hand, Zatanna waved it in front of her, which caused Johnathan to suddenly be thrown off of his feet and through the air to his right. He went flipping around wildly before crashing back to the ground.

For a split second, Zatanna almost felt sorry for these guys. Here she was, tossing them around, barely even saying a spell between the two of them, and she was kicking their asses. Then she remembered that she was dealing with child murders, and whatever pity she had died quickly. These two deserved whatever punishment she dished out at them.

For a moment, Johnathan laid on the ground stunned. Then he frantically got back onto his hands and knees. "How the hell are you doing this?!" he screamed at her.

"What can I say, I'm just magic," Zatanna jested.

Johnathan glared at her before he looked to one side and saw the survey tripod. It was almost as if he hadn't realized he had landed near it. Hauling himself onto his feet, he grabbed the tripod and hefted it off of the ground and then threw it at her.

"Emoc trapa," Zatanna said as she held her hand towards the incoming contraption. In an instant, the surveying equipment fell into pieces, its various parts separating and eventually coming to a stop in midair. "Tih eht yob."

The parts then launched themselves towards Johnathan. The perfect "Oh shit" look appeared on his face before he threw his arms up in an attempt to protect his head and face. He was just in time too as the parts struck his body. Hitting him over and over as they bounced off of his body, curved through the air, and flew back in for another blow. Over and over he was assaulted, Johnathan letting out pained cries whenever he had a moment to.

Zatanna watched this right up until the boy collapsed from the beating, lying in the dirt in the fetal position, all while still protecting his head with his arms. Spotting some wires in the cloud of parts, the dark-haired woman decided it was time to end this. "Niartser eht yob," she commanded.

The wires responded to her spell. They flung themselves over his body before wrapping around his arms and legs. They bound the appendages together, forming their own knots until Johnathan was lying on his stomach, his arms behind his back, and his feet sticking up into the air. Some of the wires extended out from between the feet and hands, securing all four appendages to each other. "What the hell are you—!" the teen yelled out.

"Pots gniklat," Zatanna said, cutting off the boy. His mouth snapped shut in response. "That should be enough out of you. Now, for your friend."

Looking towards Rajir, she found a distinct lack of the man where he should have been. Frowning, Zatanna looked all around her person to make certain Rajir wasn't trying to sneak up on her; yet, she didn't see him.

She felt a groan coming. Don't tell her, the guy cut his losses and ran away. That would just be her luck after easily having her way with the two murderers. Scowling, she then walked over to the restrained Johnathan, who tilted his head back to look up at her.

"Alright, kid, you and I are going to have a little talk," she told him. "And then the police are going to have a talk with you. I highly suggest you answer everything we ask of you because with my opinion of you, I'd sooner lock you up in a statue for the rest of your natural life. That would certainly put a cramp in your murderous rampage, wouldn't you say?"

It had been a long time since Constantine had felt himself trapped inside of a paralyzing spell.

However, this one didn't feel like all of the other ones he had experienced. He could at least fight against those, working out a way to free himself, like one of them escape artists with the ropes and chains. This spell, he couldn't move, he couldn't squirm, he couldn't even blink. And the onset was so sudden, his natural instincts hadn't had a chance to respond.

All of that was to say he was right up in a pickle.

Brother Night slid out of his booth. "What are the odds?" he asked out loud, though it was clear he wasn't going to get an answer. "The original sin has finally caught up with me. Though, I must say, you certainly took your time. I'd nearly forgotten Mt Diablo."

The creep sauntered around the table, placing himself between it and the two men. He leaned back against it, placing his hands on top of the table. He stared at them with those penetrating red eyes. Constantine would have returned the look, but not even his eyes would turn, so he had to settle with what he could see in his immediate view. "I must say, neither of you look like much," he commented, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "I had expected something a little more…grander than a pair of men badly needing a shave."

Brother Night sighed. "Life's little disappointments I suppose." His gaze moved from one man to the other. "No doubt you are familiar with what happened. You must be thinking if this spell is the same one I used to walk out of that police station." A smile that would make a shark jealous grew across his face. "To that, I say yes. This is that spell. However, unlike those police officers, neither one of you will leave here un—"

There was a flash of green light from Corrigan, which interrupted Brother Night's monologue. At least, that's what Constantine assumed because there was a flash, it was green, and it was coming from the redhead's direction. Suddenly, Brother Night went flying through the air, appearing as if he had been hit by a MACK truck. His body flipped around wildly until he crashed into the wall.

The next thing Constantine knew, he could move again. Instantly, he spun around to keep Brother Night in view, raising both hands up as orange seals appeared around them. He was already raising as many defensive spells as he could to make certain he wasn't paralyzed that way again.

"I don't know what ya did, but I'm thankful," he told his newest, bestest pal. "I'm guessin' this is the part where we throw down."

"It would seem so," Corrigan agreed as he stepped up beside the Brit. "I hope you brought your A game."

"Only game I know."

By that point, Brother Night was pushing himself up, using the wall to brace himself. "Bad move, gentleman," he growled. "Very bad move."

Suddenly, the man thrust a hand out and a torrent of fire erupted from his palm. The flames spread throughout the VIP section, rushing towards the two magical blokes.

Constantine took immediate action as he moved his hands together, his magical seals combining and forming one large seal. He enlarged it to fill the space in front of him, from ceiling to floor, from wall to wall. The flames struck the shield and went no further

"Behind!" Corrigan shouted as he twisted his body around, holding up one of his own hands. A shield of green magic covered the same amount of space as Constantine's shield, more fire striking it a second later.

That proved to be a feint. Constantine knew this the moment his feet began to sink into the floor, the room rising up around him. Jerking his head down, he saw his ankles disappear into the carpet, his calves following right after. The same thing was happening to Corrigan.

"Time to hover, pal," the blond man called out, immediately pulling in his magical energies to use for his favorite levitation spell. However, the moment he started, the floor suddenly shattered like a stained-glass window. The slow sinking feeling became a full-out falling one, one that dropped him into a pitch-black void.

"Whoa, Nelly!" he yelped as he unleashed his spell, stopping his fall. He stared into the abyss for a moment before looking up. He could see the underside of the floor, Corrigan's feet and legs sticking out from the floorboards. He hadn't used a spell that he knew of, but the redhead wasn't sinking further from what he could see. The man was peering through the hole that had suddenly formed to look down on him.

"Constantine!" Corrigan shouted in warning, which caused the blond man to look back down. From the darkness, long, slimy tongues whipped out, each one wrapping around Constantine's body. One got him around the waist, another by his left shoulder, and a third around his throat. Instinctively, he grabbed onto them, even as he felt them pull him further down into the void.

Like he was gonna let that happen. He mumbled a spell, which caused the palms of his hands to heat up. A reddish-orange glow came from them, followed by the sound of sizzling meat. It even smelled like something was cooking.

The void seemed to reverberate around him. That was followed by a soul-shivering shriek, the tongue immediately loosening and retreating. In an instant, Constantine used a teleportation spell, vanishing from the void and appearing by the booth next to the one Brother Night used. It also happened to be the one next to the wall the man had been thrown into.

Only problem was, there was no Brother Night standing there.

Constantine stared for a brief moment before alarms went off in his head. Sharp teeth grew out of the floor by his feet, more growing from the ceiling above his head. Seeing as each booth was sunk into the wall, it made it appear as if the alcove was a mouth, just with a couch and table inside. The moment the teeth moved upwards and downwards, Constantine threw himself forward, going into a roll to end up on his feet just as the mouth of razor-sharp teeth closed, each tooth fitting into the gap formed by two opposite teeth.

Well, that would have been an unpleasant way to go. Constantine stared at the teeth before they began to slide apart, revealing a cavernous mouth behind them, a newly formed tongue and uvula in sight now.

This had gotten old. The blond man was definitely on the defensive, which was no way to fight a fight. At some time, he had to attack the other bloke, but the current one was nowhere in sight. On top of that, everything about this place seemed built to change into one death trap after another. No doubt it was designed…by…

Constantine could hit himself. "We've got to go!" he shouted at Corrigan. "This whole place is gonna be the death of us!"

It was magic 101. When dueling another Homo magi, always do so on a neutral field. You were putting yourself at a disadvantage by entering another mage's territory, which is what he and Corrigan had done coming to Club Night. Brother Night would be at his strongest here, and he was already proving to be formidable.

And them, being the stupid sods that they were, walked right into his territory.

"Not a bad idea," a creepy voice said.

Turning his head to the wall, Constantine watched as Brother Night's face grew right out of the wallpaper. He was grinning maniacally at him. "Unfortunately for you," his voice rang out, but not from the face present. No, this voice came out of a second face that was growing out of the wall. "I won't let that happen," it finished.

That was when more and more faces of Brother Night appeared, forming a net of them along the wall. Constantine wasn't certain the reason for it, but he could only conclude that it wasn't a good thing for him. So he raised up both of his hands and fired a blast of magical power. The beam ripped into the wall and blew a hole right through it, destroying all of the faces it touched.

That proved to be a mistake.

Beyond the hole he had created, he saw a round mouth, rows upon rows of rotating teeth. Gastric juices dripped from the top of the mouth, sliding down its sides, and pooling at the bottom. The wall that separated him from this latest mouth began to crumble piece by piece, revealing more and more just how large this mouth was.

Then came the tongues.

Once again, Constantine was grabbed by them; in fact, if the burnt hand prints in two of them were any indication, these were the same ones from the abyss. He was really missing that void right now cause now he knew just what those tongues were trying to pull him into.

However, this monster clearly hadn't learned its lesson because it didn't restrain his hands again. Calling upon his little hand-heating spell, he tried to repeat burning the tongues again, only to realize he couldn't move his arms. Jerking them, he then realized that perhaps these tongues hadn't messed up again as they pinned his arms to his sides.

Well, buggar. Looked like he needed a different spell.

Muttering under his breath, Constantine went in a different direction. The heat vanished from his glowing hands, but they were instantly replaced with a chilly blue light. Ice suddenly erupted from his palms, latching onto the tongues. And like that, the ice crawled its way down the tongues deep into the mouth.

Letting the spell end, Constantine then fired another beam, one that blasted through the frozen meat-sicles. That same, soul-shrieking scream rang out, only louder this time. The blond man winced from the sound drilling its way into his ears.

A green light then flowed over him, reaching out towards the mouth. Now, if that screech had been bad, the moment the green light touched it made it scream a blood-curdling one. Constantine felt frozen to where he stood, unable to move as he felt paralyzed.

That was when Corrigan was at his side. "I believe you are right," he told him. "Time to go."

Constantine could only move an eye, but with that eye he could confirm the green light was coming from his companion. The green light grew brighter until it was all he could see.

And then they were gone.